Cat's Cradle
by Wurstlover178
Summary: Ludwig notices two cats always in his backyard; one is always cheerful and chasing butterflies, the other always hostile and robbing the local Italian restaurant. While Ludwig's interest in the nice one grows, Antonio's grows for the mean one. GermanyxNeko!Italy, SpainxNeko!Romano, hints of EnglandxInu!America. Rated M for future lemon chapters, language/themes. Chapter 6 now up!
1. Where's The Fire?

_Hooray! I finally posted it! The story that was originally supposed to be my first post. XD Ah well. I got a huge motivation boost by seeing my first comment and finally finished the first chapter of this story! Alright, first, Hetalia does not belong to me. If it did, all sorts of inappropriate shnike would go down between my fave pairings. Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya-san! Second, this story, unlike **I'll Have You Eventually**, is in third person. Review or Russia-san will beat me with his pipe! (lol)_

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"Ve~ Meow!"

"Chigi!"

"Scheisse… those cats are at it again." Ludwig muttered working over some strudel on the kitchen counter.

Could Ludwig really call them cats though? As he dared to peek out the window into his backyard, it was very clear what the source of the German's confusion was.

Yep, it was those cats again, their tails puffed out and ears pressed against their skulls. At first glance, they looked like normal human beings. But these men were _very_ different from average humans. Their ears were always planted on top of their heads, tails swishing gently behind them.

The blond German sighed as he watched the olive skinned men stare at each other; one with hostility, the other with confusion.

The hostile cat was shirtless, exposing his slightly dirt covered chest to the world. His dark wash jeans clung tightly to his taut legs, which helped him crouch down on his bare feet, as if ready to pounce. His head of dark brown hair matched the fur color of his ears and tail perfectly; the hair curl that bounced freely from his hair, sticking out like a sore thumb, clung to the right side of his head. The hazel orbs that were his eyes were narrowed at the other feline-ish male.

This cat was shirtless like the other, but his faded jeans and torn up shoes made a relative difference to his appearance. His brown hair-which was a much lighter shade compared to the other cat's-matched the color of his ears and tail, ears pressed back in fear and tail between his legs. Brown eyes stared at the other cat-man in hurt and confusion, his curl on the left side of his head visibly drooping from the emotions he was experiencing.

"Ve?" The lighter haired cat-man mewed, taking a cautious step forward. The darker haired one just hissed at him once more before relaxing slightly and standing.

Ludwig was a tad bit aggravated at the show going on outside his window. How was a man supposed to live with this nonsense going on 24/7? He bent down and took off his shoe opening the window slowly.

Clutching his shoe tightly in his hand, he brought his arm back and started to aim at the "cats" outside. Before the tight spring that was the large muscle in his arm could snap forward and chuck the shoe, a voice behind him shouted, "Bruder! Where's that strudel you promised me?"

The heads of both cats outside snapped to look at the red faced Ludwig in alarm.

"VE!"

"CHIGI!"

The cats yowled in unison before running off, leaping over the picket fence with ease in their hasty escape.

"Verdammt, Gilbert! I nearly had them!" Ludwig yelled, head darting to the left to glare at his shorter, albino brother. Blue eyes met crimson ones, which looked completely undeterred to Ludwig's outburst.

Gilbert let out a low chuckle, blowing his silvery hair out of his eyes. Well, if you're done abusing alley cats, you can finish my strudel right?" He reached up and tousled his younger brother's slicked back, blond hair.

Ludwig's eyes widened at the action, grabbing Gilbert's wrist and tossing it aside with a little too much force.

"Finish it yourself. You know how long it takes for me to do my hair." With that somewhat girly comment, he tore off his apron and stomped out of the kitchen, heading upstairs in the same fashion.

Upon entering his bathroom, he slammed the door shut and headed over to the porcelain sink, the container of hair gel sitting there like it always was. He stared at himself in the mirror as he got to work, putting each strand back into its uniform style. He had gotten comments on how his hair looks better when it's down. But he always disregarded these compliments, having the need to put his hair into its tamed, everyday fashion. Gilbert always said it was sort of OCD-ish of him to do that. Of course, it always ended up with a good bruising on his cheek. But that comment never failed to continue, nonetheless.

Ten minutes later, Ludwig stared at himself with satisfaction as he saw that his hair was in uniform condition, each golden strand tucked away were it should be. He turned around and headed for the door, hearing a slight _POP_ from downstairs, but shook it off, thinking it was Gilbert swigging some more of his beer.

However, it seemed like too much of a coincidence that as soon as Ludwig's hand touched the doorknob, the smoke alarm went off. He sighed and opened the door quickly, coughing as smoke suddenly polluted his lungs.

"GILBERT! What in Gott's name did you do?" Ludwig yelled, bolting downstairs to where he left his brother unattended in the kitchen. There stood his older brother, trying to wave away the smoke in the air and coughing as he opened the microwave and took out something wrapped in tin foil. The microwave was in flames, which quickly spread to the wooden floor.

"I tried to microwave the strudel and it exploded!"

"Dummkopf! You don't put foil in the microwave!" Ludwig grabbed Gilbert's shoulder and pulled him out of the room, quickly grabbing his cellphone on the side table next to the couch before stepping outside.

By the time they stepped out of the house fire sirens could already be heard echoing in the air. As they both stood on the sidewalk, staring at the flames, Gilbert shook off Ludwig's grip and leaned on the mailbox labeled _BEILSCHMIDT_.

"Sorry bruder. My awesomeness burned down your house." Though he was trying to apologize, Gilbert couldn't help but grin at his statement. "EPIC! Your older bruder is an epic win, Luddy!"

Ludwig smacked the back of his brother's head before leaning on the white picket fence. As he did so, he realized the fire engines had finally arrived, extinguishing the fire before it could burn anything else.

"What a show." That British accent was instantly recognizable to Ludwig, who looked over his shoulder at his next door neighbor, Arthur Kirkland.

Arthur was a relatively short man-shorter than Ludwig at least-who's tell tale traits were hard to miss. Dirty blond hair just barely touched the thick eyebrows that sat above his emerald green eyes, which were usually hardened into a glare at the Germans. The Brit's blue white shirt and blue sweater vest was another stand out trait, framing his almost girlish figure well. Those light brown slacks were loose enough to provide comfort, but tight enough not to droop like a prisoner's.

"Say again Arthur?" Ludwig crossed his arms and looked up at Arthur's pet, who was growling at him like he normally did, despite his restraints.

Arthur lightly stroked his "dog's" ears, cooing, "Shush, Alfie. It's just big old Luddy."

Alfred looked like any other man, save the sunny blond ears on top of his head and the tail of the same shade that swished behind him. He was taller than his owner, only being held back from attacking Ludwig by a leash, which was attached to an American flag patterned collar. His hair matched his fur, slightly tousled by Arthur's affectionate gesture. Those ears pressed down on top of his head as he pushed his head towards Arthur's hand. Like the cat's Ludwig saw earlier, Alfred was shirtless, showing off his well toned chest and abs; just like a human's would look like. Only, instead of old, tattered shoes and dirty jeans, he had perfectly fitting light blue jeans, the bottom of their legs just overlapping a bit of his red Converse sneakers. The only flaw his jeans had was the hole his owner probably had to cut into them to allow his tail to wag freely like it was now.

"But Master! He's a Nazi German!" Alfred exclaimed. His left foot was thumping on the concrete in excitement, his golden tail wagging furiously behind him. "Let me attack just this once, please?"

"I said no, Alfred. Now be good and sit." Arthur ordered. His pet only grumbled to himself, pushing his glasses up his nose to frame his sky blue eyes before sitting behind his master, arms and legs crossed. "Good boy." Arthur smiled, giving Alfred one last scratch behind the ear before turning to look back at his neighbor.

Ludwig rolled his eyes at the display he just witnessed. "Why are you out here anyway? Don't you have better things to do?"

"I'll have you know I was about to take Alfie here for a stroll around the neighborhood when I realized your home was up in flames. You're lucky I bothered to call the fire department at all."

"Thanks for the concern, but we didn't need to be helped like we were in a charity. I would have done it myself."

"And by the time they would have arrived, you would be living in a cardboard box."

"Box?" Alfred's tail thumped on the ground at the mention of a box. Oh how he loved those things. He could imagine he was driving a racecar, piloting an airplane in World War Two or, even better, pretend to stick his head out the car window and let his tongue flap in the wind.

Quickly glaring down at his neighbor's mutt, Ludwig frowned harder. "You should train your animal more. Not only is he disrespectful, he gets into places he shouldn't be in." Though he was looking at Alfred, the comment was directed at his owner. Ludwig had plenty of experience with dogs; training them for Seeing Eye duties, bomb or drug sniffing, even to be common house pets. But this one was by far the worst case he had seen yet.

Arthur sighed as if in defeat. "I know. But dog training in PetSmart just doesn't work for him."

"Maybe because he's half man."

"You don't think I know that?"

"Here we go again…" Gilbert sighed in the background, shaking his head slowly. The remark earned him a glance from both Ludwig and Arthur, who had almost forgotten he was even there.

"I know my dog isn't well trained," Arthur said, bringing his attention back to the German in front of him with a good glare. "But he's loyal, protective and a good companion."

Ludwig's eyes were, at first, set on the Brit's. But soon they trailed elsewhere, eyes widening at what he was witnessing.

Arthur, however, just continued with his rant. "He's everything a dog needs to be. So I don't care whether or not you think he's disobedient. To me, he's as good as any Lassie or Rin Tin Tin out there, and that's that!"

Ludwig had completely tuned him out, still trying to process in his mind what in the world he was staring at. "Um…" He managed to say.

Almost as if he sensed the awkward situation, Gilbert turned around and instantly burst into laughter. He clutched his stomach from a cramp that suddenly developed, trying to find air. When he did, he finally exclaimed, "Oh my Gott! Artie, your 'pooch' is humping your leg!"

What a blunt yet true way to put it.

Arthur raised one thick eyebrow before looking down at Alfred. Sure enough, Gilbert couldn't have told the truth any better.

There was Alfred, suddenly on his knees, furiously crashing his groin onto Arthur's leg. He whimpered here and there, face flushed as he proceeded with his deed. Though it was awkward for Ludwig to realize it, there was a very prominent bulge in Alfred's jeans, which he used to basically assault his owner's leg.

"M-Master…" He groaned, glasses sliding down his nose as he continued on.

Arthur's face flushed to the same shade, if not darker, of red as Alfred's. "ALFRED! BAD DOG! Get off!" He tried to shake off his pet to no avail.

"But Iggy, I think I'm in heat!" Alfred whined, tongue lolling out as he panted desperately for air. "Please don't make me wait."

"I think you should hurry up and 'punish' your mutt before he does this again." Gilbert grinned, winking suggestively at Arthur, who blushed to no end at the comment.

"Alfred, we're going home." Arthur said sternly, dragging his pet behind him.

Alfred's ears perked up excitedly. "You mean you'll take care of my problem?" His owner didn't regard that question with an answer. So he took it as a yes and bolted to his house, turning the tables on poor Arthur as he dragged him along.

"Verdammt." Ludwig said, scratching the back of his head. He didn't think he'd ever witness that, nonetheless with his neighbor and his pet. At least not today. Gilbert, on the other hand, still found it hilarious, laughing all the way to the front door as the firemen left.

"Danke." Ludwig said politely to them. The fire chief nodded before mounting the truck and signaling it to move. With that, Ludwig slowly made his way to the door, shocked when he saw Gilbert suddenly out of his normal house wear and instead wearing clean dark washed jeans, a black T-Shirt and a sweater to match.

"Where are you going?" Ludwig asked.

"Out. Got to get groceries y'know?"

Ludwig eventually sighed, remembering how the kitchen just burnt down and how probably no food survived the level of heat they just endured. "You're right." He pinched the bridge of his nose, grabbing the house keys on the hook next to the door. "I might as go with you, make sure you stay out of trouble."

"Awesome! Luddy's going shopping with me for once! Let's go!" Gilbert literally jumped off the porch and bolted down the sidewalk, stopping at the corner as he waited for his younger brother.

Ludwig sighed and followed. "This is going to be a long day…"

_HOORAY! After lots of Pocky, sleepless nights and planning, it's done! :DDDD I hope you guys enjoy this! Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! Chapter two for both **I'll Have You Eventually** and this story should be posted soon, if not later today! ¡Hasta luego, mi gentes!_


	2. Cats and Dogs

That't right, mi gentes. :P I've returned for the second chapter of **Cat's Cradle**! This story got a huge support in less than 24 hours, and I'm very psyched about that. So more chapters for you guys! :D Okay! Hetalia doesn't belong to me! Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Humaryua-san! I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I have fun writing it. Review or Russia-san will beat me with his pipe! (lol)

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The only thing Ludwig could really process through his head right now was, "My feet are so sore." The grocery trip he and Gilbert had originally gone out for had somehow turned into a shopping spree, leaving Ludwig to hold the grocery bags as well as the bags from several other shops Gilbert had the nerve to step into.

"I don't think I'll have very good credit after this…" Ludwig muttered, trying to balance all the bags in his arms.

Gilbert glanced back at him and grinned. "Don't worry bruder! The awesome me will cover all your payments!"

Through a crack in the mountain of bags, Ludwig glared at his brother. Sure, Gilbert was older, but most of the time he felt like the roles were flipped. "With what money?"

Gilbert ignored him and stood outside the local Italian restaurant, Fratello's. It was pretty well known amongst teenagers and adults alike, both parties coming here on either lunch breaks or to hang with friends. Today, however, was rather quiet. Only two other people were in there and they weren't even eating, just sipping some coffee and chatting.

_Probably a business meeting of some sort._ Ludwig thought to himself. He adjusted the bags in his arms and sighed, trying to lean on the wall. Why, oh why did Gilbert insist on buying the extra large sack of potatoes? Yes, he loved the vegetable, but it was becoming a pain to lug around on his shoulders like some mule.

"Can you at least take a bag or two?" He asked, glancing over to where Gilbert was and seeing an empty spot. "The hell…?" Ludwig's confusion disappeared when he saw him striking conversation with Antonio and Francis, his two best friends.

A sigh escaped Ludwig's lips as he just stood there, letting the strain on his shoulders grow worse and worse.

"Ah, hola Ludwig!" A Spanish voice rang out. Ludwig barely picked up his head before realizing the sack of potatoes was lifted off of him. He couldn't help but feel like the heavens had just opened up to him with the new found freedom he had.

"Oh Gott…" Ludwig groaned, straightening his back. "Danke, Antonio."

The tan skinned man before him had his flannel shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the striking red and black plaid looking oddly well on him. Antonio smiled whole heartedly at his friend's brother, putting the sack over one of his shoulders. He eventually stuffed his hand into the pocket of his moderately fitted, faded jeans, working boots being covered by the legs of said pants. "De nada, amigo!" Antonio exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across his face as he shut his green eyes, a happy air just radiating off of him in that moment. The relatively messy head of hair he possessed barely brushed his eyelids as he tilted his head to the side innocently. "Why would you be carrying around such a load anyway?"

Ludwig glared at Gilbert evilly, eyes narrowing slightly. "Because my bruder doesn't feel like pulling his fair share."

Antonio looked back at Gilbert and Francis, who were chatting eagerly about something-or rather someone, Ludwig soon realized. He had just realized Elizabeta down the street and that Gilbert's attention was completely focused on her, that and whatever Francis was telling him.

"Well, he is kind of lazy."

"Kind of?"

"Okay…maybe muy mucho, sí?"

Ludwig nodded once at Antonio before taking back his position on the wall. Carrying stuff like this really does a number on someone's back. He was further relieved when Antonio took a few grocery bags into his arms, flashing that genuinely friendly smile at the German.

"HEY! GET OUT OF HERE YOU MANGY CAT!"

Both Ludwig and Antonio jumped and looked around quickly, seeing a dark brown tail from the alley way. "CHIGI!" Oh no… Ludwig knew that cry.

Just as Ludwig thought, the dark brown haired cat from before bolted out of the alley as the chef from the Italian restaurant chased him out, wielding a broom like it as a club. The cat scurried away and across the street with several tomatoes and loaves of bread in his arms. As far as Ludwig was concerned, he was trying to also feed the cat he was normally with.

"What's the problema, señor?" Antonio asked. Just like that country bumpkin to be concerned for others…

"That stupid cat is always stealing my garlic bread and tomatoes! I'm sick of it! I need to get some sort of repellent for that one; he always returns just to rob my supply dry." The chef's strong Italian "accent" sounded fake to Ludwig. Antonio probably thought so too, judging from the grimace on his face.

"Not the tomatoes!" Antonio shouted. He suddenly dropped the grocery bags and chased after the cat, calling out to it in Spanish. "Diablo gato!"

"Hey!" Ludwig yelled after him. He had no choice but to drop his bags and follow Antonio in his mad dash towards the cat. "Schiesse Antonio! They're just tomatoes!"

"And your potatoes are just potatoes!"

Well, he couldn't argue with that logic.

The cat looked over his shoulder at them and yowled in fright, picking up the pace and sprinting further down the street on his bare feet.

"Ay caramba… Más despacio, por favor!"

"Did you really ask him to slow down?" Ludwig asked disbelief. _Damn, this guy's almost as air headed as Gilbert… Almost._

"SICK! A CAT! BARK BARK!"

"CHIGI!" The cat picked up his furious pace as the blond haired dog from earlier started chasing him, sprinting on hands and feet to catch up to him.

"Alfred! Get back here!" _Verdammt. Not the Brit again._ Ludwig thought to himself.

Sure enough, Arthur popped out of nowhere, holding the remains of a torn leash and running in front of Antonio.

"Oh, hey Arthur…" Antonio's reluctance leaked out of his voice despite his panting. "What're you running for?"

"Alfred saw that bloody cat and decided to chase it! He tore his leash and everything just to get there!" Arthur panted back. This guy really had no stamina, did he?

"This is why you have to better train your dog!" Ludwig suddenly interjected, sprinting ahead of them both. Ludwig wasn't the number one player on his soccer team in high school for nothing, y'know? Well…both he and Antonio tied for the title, but he still considered himself the best.

"WOO HOO! I'm livin' the American dog's dream, man! BARK BARK!" Alfred exclaimed, starting to nip at the cat's heels.

"WAAAAAA!" The cat screeched, hastily turning into the nearest alleyway in hopes to make an escape. With Alfred close at his heels, Antonio, Ludwig and Arthur stopped at the opening of the alley, watching the scene before them in disbelief.

The dark haired cat was hiding behind the lighter haired one, who seemed totally oblivious to it all as the other cowered. Alfred closed in on them and growled, his tail puffing out slightly.

"I'm having cat tonight." He chuckled, inching agonizingly close to them.

The dark haired cat started to bawl in fear, pushing the other in front of Alfred a little. "Take him! He would make a much better meal than I would I mean I eat tomatoes all day and this guy eats starch filled pasta for breakfast lunch and dinner so just eat him instead and please don't KILL MEEEE!" The lack of pause in his sentence made Arthur a little dizzy, hand on his head.

"Oi… I'll need some major aspirin after that one…" He whined.

"Oh silencio and help control your dog." Antonio's voice was surprisingly hostile, making even Ludwig stop and glance at him in concern. Was he okay?

The lighter haired cat looked back at the dark haired one, confused. Finally, he looked at Alfred and smiled. "Ve~! Puppy!"

Alfred stopped in his tracks and got on his two feet. "What the fuck man? Puppy? Look at me!" He motioned to himself, mostly to his muscles. "I'm a full grown Inu Sapien!" He flexed his biceps in a show-offy fashion. "A ripped one at that. So don't call me a puppy!"

Alfred's conceited rant gave Arthur enough time to grab that blond ear of Alfred's and tug harshly. Alfred whined and pouted as Arthur started to scold him. "With the training I'm going to put you through, you might as well be one." The Brit said sternly.

The cowering cat suddenly poked his head up and laughing loudly. "Eat that you stupid mutt! Cat's win yet again!"

"I'll kill you!" Alfred yelled, growling through bared teeth at both cats. Arthur slid a secure finger under his pet's collar, holding him back with a quick choke.

"You try that and a whole shit storm's coming your way, bastard!" That cat just stood there with his tail swishing happily behind him. "See that, Feli? That's how a real Neko takes care of business."

"But Lovino, that doesn't seem right. Why threaten the puppy if he just wanted to play~?"

The cat that was apparently named Lovino shook his head before putting a hand on the other's shoulder and patting it. "See Feliciano, this is where you fail at defending yourself."

"But it didn't look like you were–." The cat, Feliciano, has cut off by Lovino speaking up.

"Damn it, you imbecile! Don't judge me!"

"Okay! I'm sorry!"

Ludwig was starting to get a migraine just listening to them. No wonder that chef was so ticked off. These two were an absolute nuisance! Antonio on the other hand…

"Aw… They're so cute~!" The Spaniard stepped forward, catching Feliciano's attention.

"Ve!" The smaller of the two made his way to Antonio and purred, hugging him.

"Damn it Feli! That's a human! Who knows what diseases they have!"

Ludwig raised an eyebrow and looked at the condition of both felines. By the looks of things, the cats were in a worse state of possible disease than he and Antonio were.

"Don't worry, gatos. I'm disease free." Antonio's smile widened, petting Feliciano's head affectionately. "Just got my shots yesterday."

"Wait, what?" Ludwig asked. If that comment wasn't a little weird, he didn't know what was.

"Veeeee~Meow."

Ludwig couldn't stand watching this anymore. He put a hand on Antonio's shoulder and pulled him away from the tight embrace he had on the cat-man. "That's enough, Toni."

"But they're so cute! Let's take them home!"

Ludwig grimaced, staring at both of them. "I'm more of a dog person…"

"But what if Alfred comes back and harasses them again? We should protect them from the world's evils, no?"

Ludwig thought about this long and hard to himself. The smaller one did seem a lot more manageable. But the darker haired one seemed like so much more trouble. He didn't exactly want to burden Antonio with automatically taking-Feliciano, was it?-and leaving him with the bad egg (or Bad Tomato, in his case). Plus he wasn't exactly prepared to have a cat in the house. All he had was dog materials.

"You have a lot of muscles." Ludwig looked down at the small cat-man that was poking his arms stomach and back. "Ve~!" He started furiously poking at Ludwig, waiting to find his ticklish spot.

"Get off of me!" Ludwig yelled, lightly pushing it away. Upon being shoved away, Feliciano pouted.

"Aw… You're not ticklish."

"Nein. Now leave me be and don't touch me."

"Ve, okee-dokie!" The cat gave him a salute and smiled warmly at the German man before him. This made Ludwig freeze, eyeing him supiciously before saluting back.

"Yay! You saluted back!" The cat clapped and leaped onto Ludwig, hugging him tightly.

"I said get off of me!"

"Take me home. You're a nice guy. I can be your friend, your pet. I can tear up your furniture and you can yell at me for it!"* Ludwig frowned at his statement. How was that supposed to tempt him to take the feline home?

Feliciano stared at the German in anticipation. He couldn't wait to live somewhere again. The last person he lived with was kind of a music freak. Not to mention that guy had had a very turbulent relationship with his wife.

That stare Ludwig got, the stare of pure excitement and hope, was the only thing that softened his heart. He sighed and picked up the cat in his arms. "Fine, but no wrecking furniture."

"YAY!"

"Hey! Wait! What about me? Am I really getting abandoned?" Lovino called out in the background.

"No gato!" Antonio grinned and petted the other cat's hair. "You can live with Ludwig for a little while."

"I don't like the looks of him though…"

"Would you rather be attacked by the perro again?"

Lovino jumped again; bolting to the big German man he just met and jumped on his shoulders. "Take me home, bastard." He ordered. "Ack! You smell like potatoes!"

"Well, I do like potatoes." Ludwig said, looking up at the strangely cranky cat on him.

"Ugh. Who could eat that stuff? Just thinking about that makes me feel barfy. I'll call you Potato Bastard then. Now mush." Lovino completely took the reins and grabbed the back of Ludwig's shirt collar, pulling on it once. "Mush I said, Potato Bastard!"

Ludwig mumbled German curses to himself and started on his way home. No doubt he'll have to explain the situation to Gilbert, not to mention pick up the groceries he and Antonio dumped on the street. Feliciano purred against Ludwig's shoulder, while Lovino kept tugging at his collar in an attempt to make him go faster. Antonio followed close behind, petting both cats every once in a while and chattering to Ludwig about how they would prepare for them (And by they, he meant Ludwig.)

For the umpteenth time today, Ludwig sighed before muttering, "This is going to be a long walk home…"

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*This is a reference to Axis Powers where Italy declared to form an alliance with Germany and started talking about the "perks", which included "You can boss me around and I'll disappoint you". Lol I just had to. /shot

A/N: Okay… Italic's were starting to annoy me. Lol I'm also starting to notice a recurring theme here. Ludwig keeps saying at the end of the chapters, "This is going to be a long _." I did that totally out of chance and just realized. Anyway! Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated! I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors! I'll have Chapter three posted as soon as possible (the latest being tomorrow). These are the perks to having your own personal laptop and loads of free time on your hands. /shot XD ¡Hasta luego, mi gentes!


	3. Dinner and a Lawsuit

Yes, third chapter. :P I'm on a roll, no? Lol I'm hoping to keep you guys pleased by updating us much as possible. I hate making people wait, so I'm keeping you guys satisfied to the best of my ability. Anyways, I'm having a lot of fun seeing you guys "Lol" or "Hahaha" over Inu!Alfred. It warms my heart to know I made a good choice by making him a half-man, half-animal too. :) I'll try to include Alfie and Arthur as much as I can in this fic, but remember that this is centered on GerIta and Spamano. Don't worry though. I'm (devilishly) plotting something for you IggyxInu!Alfred fans. :D Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya-san. Review or Russia-san will beat me with his pipe! (lol)

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"So you went from trying to assault these cats this morning to bringing them home now?" Gilbert asked. It only took him thirty tries to get the whole story right, and Ludwig had no intention on repeating it to him again if he hadn't gotten it.

"Ja. It was all Antonio's idea." Said Spaniard was sitting in the kitchen with Lovino, ranting with him about the wonders of tomatoes. He had just finished playing "Cat and Mouse" with Feliciano outside and the poor cat was spent. Curling around Ludwig's feet, he yawned once before falling asleep again.

"Well this one's really cute." Gilbert reached down to pet Feliciano's head, who woke up and stared at him with a happy smile.

"Behind the ear, please?" He asked. Gilbert complied, the loud purr rumbling from Feliciano's chest catching Ludwig off guard.

"This is why I'm a dog person. I don't understand cats." Ludwig watched Gilbert carefully, seeing how Feliciano reacted to being petted and patted in certain places. When Gilbert reached for his tail, however, he yelped and ran away.

_Note to self: Do not touch their tails._ Ludwig thought.

"Ah lighten up Luddy. You'll get used to them."

"Like you got used to your bird?" Ludwig pointed to the little yellow puff ball that was a bird perched on top of Gilbert's head, making itself a little nest in the white strands of hair.

"What bird?" Gilbert asked. Ludwig shook his head at the blank expression he received. How does he never notice that thing until its staring him in the face?

"Oooo. Birdy." Feliciano meowed from the corner. He stared at the bird for a while, almost hypnotized by its presence.

_Note to self Number two: Feliciano likes Gilbert's bird._ Ludwig thought these mental notes would come in handy later; might as well list in his head what they like and don't like if he's forced to live with them.

"Don't touch that, bastard!" Lovino cried from the kitchen. Ludwig, Gilbert and Feliciano (and the bird) all looked at the doorway to see Antonio's hand hovering over Lovino's hair curl, the red faced cat shaking slightly.

"Why not?" Antonio put his hand down as Lovino narrowed his eyes at him.

"Because I said not to, idiota!"

"Okay, okay gato. I just wanted to know what it does." This comment made Ludwig raise an eyebrow. Feliciano did have close to the same curl; what _did_ it do?

"… It's nothing. Just don't touch it!"

"Sí, sí. I won't."

"Can't you just cut it off if you don't want anyone to touch it?" Ludwig interjected. It seemed like an innocent question to him, but the look he received from both Feliciano and Lovino told him otherwise.

Lovino stared at him in utter horror, his face paling out as quickly as it had turned red. Feliciano, however, glanced at Ludwig once before looking at Lovino, as if searching for an answer.

"You make me sick, Potato Bastard. Feli, come with me for a second." Lovino said, more of an order than a request. The slightly confused younger cat followed him into the other room, the door slamming shut.

Antonio sighed, a smile on his face. "Those gatos are so cute. That one blushes like a tomato."

Ludwig rolled his eyes and stood up, realizing just then Gilbert was leaning on him after he fell and lied down. "Then why don't you take that cat home?"

"Que? Because I don't know if I should yet. When I was little, mi madre told me to let the animal pick you, not the other way around. So I'm waiting for Lovino to want to come home with me before I drag him home." He replied, smiling a little wider at the German.

_Typical. Now I know I'll be waiting a little while._ Ludwig thought. He sighed yet again and sat down on the floor, being that Gilbert was now taking up the entire couch.

"Cheer up Ludwig." Antonio chirped, stepping into the room to sit next to him. "I'm sure these cats aren't as bad as you think they'll be."

Ludwig glanced at Antonio through narrowed eyes. "I highly doubt that."

"How about I stay for dinner; see if Lovino will like me enough to come with me today?" Already, the idea sound phenomenal to Ludwig. He seriously didn't want another cat-man to worry about. That would be terrible.

"I have no issue with it. But you better stay down here. I don't need you…snooping around upstairs." Bad enough Gilbert knew about his little "collection". He really didn't feel like bribing anyone else to keep their mouths shut.

"Of course! I'd never!"

A door in the background opened, Feliciano and Lovino stepping out into the living room to join their owners. Feliciano's face looked pale, which was a great contrast to his normally olive skinned complexion.

"Eh, Ludwig?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't cut off our curls…"

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Compared to outside, the kitchen was sweltering hot. Just stepping into the house would probably send you into a light sweat; stepping in the kitchen, however, would probably cause a normal person heatstroke.

Ludwig was used to the heat though, sitting at the kitchen table as he waited for the water on the stove to boil. Feliciano really had to beg Ludwig to make some pasta for him and his brother, insisting that if he didn't, he'd probably starve to death. Even though that was an extreme exaggeration, the German complied, agreeing only to get the noisy Italian cat to shut up.

"Where's Tomato Bastard?" Lovino asked, lying on the floor. Ludwig had given both cats some spare clothes, not wanting them to have to walk around in those filthy rags when they had some shelter and not living in the streets. But that always angry cat decided not to, saying Ludwig's spare clothes reeked of potatoes. At that moment, the elder cat was lying on his bare stomach on the cooler linoleum floor, trying his best to get away from the heat.

"You mean Antonio?" Ludwig asked him.

"Yeah, sure, that guy. Where is he?"

"He decided to go home and get some tomatoes. Gott knows why that guy's so obsessed with them."

Lovino quickly stood up, face now red from anger. "Are you insulting the honor of that bountiful fruit?"

Ludwig froze for a second, eyeing the cat suspiciously. "Um…that wasn't my intention."

"You better not be or I'll mash your potatoes to outer space, Potato Bastard!"

Ludwig's eye twitched, feeling his heart race as his blood pressure started to rise. This cat was starting to tick him off. "Would you please stop calling me that?"

"Why would I? It suits you perfectly; you're a bastard and you like those nasty potatoes."

A ringing echoing in his ears, Ludwig stood up and shouted, "Everyone's a bastard to you, you dummkopf!"

Lovino did the same, tail puffed out behind him. "You wanna go, you damn Potato eating German?"

"I can kick you out just as easily as I brought you in!"

"Well why don't you do it?"

"Ludwig! I'm back!" A Spanish accent called. Both Italian and German stopped their scuffle to glance at Antonio, who stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a crate of tomatoes. "I have tomatoes for everyone!"

Ludwig huffed, standing a little straighter and clearing his throat. "I still don't know why you can't just use regular tomato sauce."

Lovino interjected quickly, giving the blond a grimace of disgust. "That artificial crap? That would never even touch my tongue." He stepped towards Antonio and his crate, opening it up and stealing a tomato before taking a sizeable bite out of it. He stared at the beaming Spaniard before shrugging. "They're alright." In his mind, however, Lovino was screaming, _My God, this is probably the best tomato I've had the pleasure of eating! Maybe this idiot's not too bad after all._

"Ve~ Ludwig. Don't forget the water." Feliciano was suddenly behind said German man, poking his shoulder to get his attention.

Ludwig looked at the pot, rushing over to the stove to pour the box of spaghetti into it before all the water evaporated.

Feliciano giggled at his rush, sitting down on the floor. This guy was being so nice to him. First he's not throwing his shoe at him and Lovino like he normally would-granted, they ran away before he could, but still-he took them in and now he was doing his best to make pasta for both cats. If this wasn't great hospitality, Feliciano didn't know what was.

"I think this'll be done soon. Don't be disappointed with me if it's not to your liking." Ludwig said, honestly a little nervous. This was his first attempt at boiling spaghetti, so he really hoped he didn't burn anything. Meals weren't necessarily his forte; rather it was desserts and cakes (though he hates to admit it to anyone else).

"No worries! Even if it's burnt to a crisp, I'm sure it'll be better than that mean British guy's food." Lovino gagged in the background.

"Don't remind me of that slop…"

The brothers had been in a lot of people's backyards sent they got abandoned by their old owners and had to mooch off of a lot of people's meals. The worst scrap food they'd had so far was Mr. Kirkland's, who's best meals were still either under cooked and bland or burnt and over seasoned.

Feliciano was getting a bit queasy just thinking about it.

This silence was starting to bore Antonio, so he sat down at the kitchen table and took out some tomatoes to make the sauce. After squashing a few tomatoes in a bowl, he stopped in his tracks and looked back at Lovino, who was brooding in the corner while chewing on the tomato he picked out of the crate. By the time Antonio looked, Lovino took the last bite of his tomato, tossing the green leaves on the floor.

_Maybe he's still hungry._ He thought, looking at the food bowls next to him. They were brand new, as he could tell. Ludwig probably picked them up from somewhere and decided to let the cats use it. A smile spread on Antonio's face as he brought the bowl in front of him and sliced a tomato.

Finished with his deed, he looked back at Lovino and said, "Gato!" Lovino looked up at him, eyeing the bowl curiously. "You can come over here for some more if you want." With that, the Spanish man put the bowl on the floor and continued his tomato mashing, completely oblivious to the anger rising in Lovino's body.

The older cat stood up and headed to the bowl, picking it up before sniffing it once. "This is a dog bowl." Antonio looked up at him, that oblivious expression still on his face. "You expect me to eat out of the same thing a dog has?"

Antonio blinked and shrugged. "It doesn't seem like it'd make a difference."

"Of course it makes a difference, you bastard!" Lovino screeched, just letting go of the bowl and letting the tomatoes splatter on the cold linoleum. Both he and Antonio winced at the sight of their precious fruit hitting the ground in such a harsh way, but Lovino was determined to keep his poker face. "I don't need this. I'll get tomatoes somewhere else!" And he kept to his word, storming out of the kitchen and out the front door.

Ludwig, Feliciano and Antonio stared in shock as he left, silent for a few minutes before Ludwig spoke up. "Well. I hope Alfred isn't chained up outside. Otherwise he won't get far."

"He wasn't. I checked." Antonio said. He got down on his knees and started picking up the tomato slice carcasses, a little teary eyed as he threw them in the trash.

Ludwig rolled his eyes at the funeral ceremony going on near the trash can, poking at the spaghetti in the pot. "Hey Feliciano. You think this is done? I have no experience with this stuff whatsoever."

Said Italian cat looked over Ludwig's shoulder at the contents in the pot. "Looks done to me!" He reached out a hand and shut off the stove, almost burning himself on the fire in the process.

"Be careful. I don't want to have to bury my 'pet cat' in the backyard." Ludwig grumbled. As he said this, he pulled out a strainer, ready to pour the pasta into it and drain it out.

Feliciano stopped. "You really think I'm your pet?" The excitement in his voice was clearly showing; he started to hop a little on the spot in glee.

Ludwig realized his mistake, his eyes immediately darting towards the feline. Hot water spilled onto his hand and he winced, nearly dropping both the pot and the strainer into the sink. "Verdammt!" He cried, eyes now screwed shut.

"You okay, Master?"

"Don't call me that." Ludwig growled. It was that stupid cat's comment that caused this, so he deserved the lashing he just got.

"Sorry."

Ludwig sighed and gave the strainer to his supposed "pet", heading towards the sink to drown his hand in icy water. "Serve yourself. I need to tend to my hand."

"Okee-dokie, master!"

"What did I just say?"

"Um…"

He sighed and shook his head. This guy's hopeless… "Never mind."

Antonio looked over Ludwig's shoulder at the now red hand, staring at it for a while before saying, "Need an ice pack, señor?"

"Nein. I'll be fine." The cold water felt refreshing after the hit he just took, so it shouldn't be any worse than a first degree burn. Ludwig let out a sigh of relief when he heard the front door open and slam against the wall.

From the living room, Gilbert shot up from his little nap. "I didn't do it officer, I swear! Damn music pansy was asking for- Huh?"

There stood Lovino the cat, tail puffed out and wide eyed. Something obviously startled him and, by the looks of the leaves and twigs in his hair, whatever it was, he made a hasty escape to get away from it.

"Chef." He mewled, running into the kitchen onto an unsuspecting German's shoulders.

"Scheisse! Get off of me!" Ludwig was about ready to throw this horrid curse Gott thrusted upon him off of his body, but the shaking cat jumped off himself and looked around quickly, hiding under the table.

"Chef."

"Hey! Where's that mangy cat? Or better yet, who owns the freak?" That fake Italian accent was too recognizable for anyone's own good. Antonio groaned and looked out at the chef now standing in the living room, Gilbert doing absolutely nothing about the sudden intruder standing in front of him.

"Hey dude, you're blocking the T.V. from my awesome eyes. Either move or I'll kick your unawesome ass."

"Do you live here?" The chef asked.

"Yes. But my brother owns the house."

"Well where is he?"

"Kitchen. Now move."

_Gilbert really does have the biggest mouth. Maybe I should put a shock collar on him and-_ Luwig's thoughts were interrupted by a certain chef stomping into the room and grabbing his shoulder.

"So you own those troublemakers!" The man was absolutely fuming, losing the mask of his Italian accent due to him being so concentrated on the German in front of him.

"Yes, but let me-."

"No! No explanations! You'll be hearing from my lawyer, buddy! Those atrocities you call cats are wrecking my place of business!"

It took every bit of self control Ludwig had not to punch this Italian phony in the throat. His hands balled up into fists, he was close to doing it too. But he sighed and instead grabbed the guy's collar and dragged him out, throwing him off the porch and onto the lawn. "Go ahead and take me to court. I don't really care at the moment. You'll only be proven false."

"You bet I will, bastard!" The intrusive man sped away after that, rushing down the street probably so he could get to a phone quickly.

The door slammed shut, thanks to Ludwig, and he made his way back to the kitchen. "Lovino," He called. No response. Guess he knew what was coming to him. "Get out here."

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A/N: I'm not a huge fan of the ending, but hey! I got the chapter out there! :D I really wanted something to happen on the first day Feliciano and Lovino were there and Lovino getting Ludwig sued was the best idea out of the ones I originally had. Sorry I made you peeps wait so long. I'll be quicker next time! I swear! /shot I hope you enjoyed! Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated! I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors! ¡Hasta luego, mi gentes! This is Wurstlover178, signing off!


	4. ¡OLÉ!

I hath returned! :D I'm so so so so so so so sorry for not updating sooner. I fail. /shot "OTL But Chapter Four of Cat's Cradle is now up and running! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Hetalia and its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya-san! Review or Russia-san will beat me with his pipe! (lol)

(BTW. There will be a lot of swearing involved in the beginning and a racist comment or two.)

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It was hard getting Lovino outside into his backyard but the punishment he had thought of was completely worth it. The cat struggled the whole time, leading Ludwig to have to tackle him and sit on his back, continuing on with his work. He somehow managed to keep the screeching cat still enough to tie the rope around his neck and tie the other end tightly on the birch tree. It was dark outside by the time he finished, but finally, Ludwig got off of Lovino, said cat trying to jump towards him and attack. But the rope tightened and choked him, the Italian falling on his back on the grass.

"You bastard! Untie me from this fucking thing! And wipe that fucking smug look of your face right now before I smack it off!"

It hadn't occurred to the blond just then that he was smirking at the cat's feeble attempts at trying to maim him until after he said so. Ludwig shook his head and continued to smirk at the Italian, who was now trying to chew the rope off, only to find that a lot of sharp fibers would jab at his lips when he tried.

"You got me sued today. This is your punishment."

Lovino glared at Ludwig, his hazel eyes trying to shoot lasers at the German taunting him. "This is animal abuse! I can have you arrested for this!"

Ludwig started to chuckle, glancing at the fence Lovino was next to. "Oh, I'm not sure about that. See, Alfred's tied up to. So at least you have company."

Sunny blond ears perked up from the mention of his name, twitching once from a fly that brushed against the sensitive fur. "Someone call my name? Who's calling me that isn't Iggy?" Alfred's entire head eventually popped up over the fence, looking between both cat and German; both of which he hated very much. He picked up a hand and started to scratch at the back of his ear, one eye closed in concentration.

The cat's eyes widened in considerable fear, eyeing the dog from before like he was a monster. "This mutt will kill me! You're insane, Potato Bastard!"

This caught Alfred's attention, his gaze stopping on Lovino. "Oh hey there, kitty cat. Still think cats are better?" The grin that appeared on his face revealed menacing canines, each sharp tooth twinkling in the moonlight.

Lovino tried to scramble up the tree, only to find the rope held him back from climbing to even the lowest branch. He eventually turned to Alfred, trembling from fear like he was in the alley earlier that day. "L-Look, I was just joking! Ha ha ha! See? All a joke and you fell for it." He pointed to the dog before him, the sunny blond's bright blue eyes landing on the finger.

"You want to hear another joke, kitty cat?"

"Um…s-sure."

"Knock knock." The dog hit his fist on the fence twice, the same menacing grin growing bigger and bigger.

"Who's there?"

"Crack."

This made Lovino freeze, like an antelope being stalked by lions. He soon worked up the nerve to shakily say, "C-Crack who?"

Alfred looked at the chain on his neck and tugged it a few times. _Seems loose enough._ He thought. He grabbed the fence and hopped over it, landing in front of the paling Italian cat and grabbing his shoulder. "Crack is the sound your bones will make when I'm done with you."

Lovino wanted to scream, but couldn't find the words in his now dry throat to yell. "WAAAH!" He again tried to scramble up the tree only for Alfred to pull him down again, shoving him to the ground. A growl rumbled from the pit Alfred's throat, tensing up at his prey before him.

"Because of you, Iggy doesn't like me. I was only trying to live the American dog's dream! But being a Brit, he doesn't understand."

"Well maybe you should think next time you try to chase an innocent cat!" Lovino hissed.

"Think? I don't know the meaning of the word. I do know the meaning of the word 'kill' though. Iggy taught me that one."

Lovino gulped, his cry for help going unnoticed by Ludwig, who was already inside the house and in the kitchen while Alfred continued to attack him.

Ludwig sighed and smiled, the wonders of success making the air around him awfully carefree. Gilbert sensed this and eyed his brother suspiciously.

"Are you drunk, Luddy? 'Cause if you are, why didn't you invite me?" He shouted, punching his younger brother on the shoulder. Ludwig ignored him and looked over at Antonio, who was wincing and watching the fight outside with one eye open, the other closed.

"Maybe if he's still alive, you can keep him." Antonio shot him a look of pain and disbelief.

"He's the only gato or persona that understands my love of tomates!"

"Well, you can talk about tomatoes while he's in the hospital."

Antonio's eyes started to water a little, returning his gaze to the scene outside. Poor Lovino was getting pulled around and tortured, the rope around his neck allowing him no room to move away from the opposing canine before him. The screeches of pain and fear banged on the Spaniard's eardrums and tugged at his all too sensitive heart strings. From his spot at the window, he was afraid for the well being of this gato, fearing that if he ever did take him home, he would die in a few minutes from blood loss anyway.

_This gato needs my help_. Antonio thought. His posture picked up, now straight like a board with his chest puffed out in determination. "Lovi needs my help!" He cried, both Germans and Feliciano-who was rudely awoken from a siesta-stared at him. He paid no heed to them as he ran outside and nearly slipped on the wet grass.

"Get away from Lovi, you Diablo perro!" He cried.

Alfred looked up from Lovino, both his hands gripped firmly on his neck. The Italian was gasping for air, a bruise or two already visible on his chest and arms. Alfred raised an eyebrow before looking the Spaniard from earlier up and down.

"Alright! Who's letting the Mexicans into America again?" He yelled out to the sky. Antonio stiffened, now glaring at the dog before him.*

"I'm not Mexicano. I'm from España, the land of passion! Get it right, estupido!"

"I know enough Mexican to know that's an insult." He dropped Lovino, said cat scurrying off behind the tree to watch the spectacle unfolding.

"Tomato Bastard! What are you doing?"

Antonio looked at Lovino, his stare softening a little at the sight of the cat cowering in fear. So cute and helpless, just asking for someone to save him. Well, Antonio was now determined to be the hero.

"Saving my Lovi." From his back pocket, he grabbed a red handkerchief and waved it in front of Alfred's face before holding it to his side. "Perro, Perro!"

Lovino raised an eyebrow from his hiding spot. _My Lovi?_ Even worse, the Spanish bastard was acting like Alfred was a bull in a bullfight. Where he got that handkerchief will remain a mystery to him; he just hoped this bastard's plan would actually work-even if he did end up with internal bleeding.

Alfred stared at the red cloth in front of him, expression lifting at its color. "YO! It's red! That's so badass! Give it to me!" He ran towards the Spanish guy's handkerchief, coming so, so close to having it in his hands before Antonio whipped it aside and almost pranced away. "Huh?" Alfred was still running when he looked over his shoulder at the Spaniard. The loud and hollow _THUD _of Alfred's head slamming against Ludwig's backyard shed caught everyone but Antonio off guard, who yelled out a triumphant "¡OLÉ!" at the sound.

The blond's face instantly fell with the collision, pain branching out throughout his body. He grasped his head in both hands and crouched down a little, blood rushing back to his head and thumping in his ears. Soon, the dog got his bearings back enough to glare at the smiling Antonio before him, now next to the tree and waving his handkerchief in the air again. "You asshole! What was that for? You're in for it now, Mexican!" He charged yet again, arms extended so he could grab the guy indirectly hurting him and give him what for.

"Perro, perro!" Antonio cheered, eyes set on the pissed off dog coming at him. Closer, closer, closer… "¡OLÉ!" He cried again, stepping away on his tiptoes in order to watch the dog collide with the tree trunk, Lovino's eyes widening at the close proximity he now had with the ferocious beast.

"AH, FUCK!" Alfred stepped away from the tree and swerved, his footing almost failing him and falling to the ground. His hands wiped away blood seeping from his nostrils. "My nose! You dick, you'll pay for this! Quit prancing around like a crack head ballerina and face me like a man!" He was angry now; in fact, he was seeing red. The only target he had right now was the obnoxiously cheery guy in front of him waving that damned cloth around again.

"It's not ballet, diablo," Antonio said as he eyed the dog. The blond's sneakers padded at the ground, preparing to charge again. He knew this because he's fought bulls for quite the while now; he knows the signs. He knows where to prance away to, when to take the cape away and when to anger the bull again. This will be the last swipe of the handkerchief, but he had to make sure it had a lasting effect. He had to keep this "toro" from attacking his Lovi again.

The dog charged again, snarling with his teeth and hands bared, ready to attack once he got a hold of him. Antonio took a step to the left, aiming the handkerchief so it was in front of the dog's face. A normal person would be scared stiff by this dog, let alone a bull. But not Antonio.

"This is bullfighting." Alfred's fingers grazed the Spaniard's torso, but soon found him gone. He was able to see him leaping away out of his peripheral vision, growling with frustration. _What is with this guy?_ Another _THUD_ and he collided with the fence, hitting it harder than either the tree or the shed.

"You fucking Mexi-!" His exclamation was cut short by the wooden fence creaking and snapping, blue eyes widening in fear. "Oh shit…" He mumbled. The fence broke down under the weight and the stress of the impact, the entire length of it falling into Arthur's yard. Alfred could only hold onto the fence and hope it wouldn't hurt as the fence slammed onto the ground. Of course, when he didn't want it to hurt, he found it hurt even more, twitching on top of the white boards and letting out a groan of pain.

"¡OLÉ!" Antonio taunted. He tucked away his handkerchief and looked at Lovino, who was staring in awe at the dog now on the ground and twitching in pain. "Don't worry, Lovi. I'll get you out of this."

Hazel eyes turned to look into emerald ones in shock and disbelief. Did he really just do all that to help? But why? No one has ever felt the need to help a screw up like him. Not even the Potato Bastard that took him in. So why was this guy so focused on helping him out of this?

Lovino finally worked up the nerve to say something, his mouth now not as dry as it was before. "That was…quite a show there." Antonio continued to work on the complicated knot Ludwig made, fingers doing their best to loosen the rough material.

"It's what I used to do back in Spain." For once, he didn't work a Spanish word into his sentence. He figured since the cat was Italian, he would be able to understand anyway, but he didn't want to take the chance that he wouldn't comprehend what he was saying. "My father taught me how when I was ten and it progressed from there."

"Wait, a ten year old…bull fighting?" Unbelievable. This guy must be lying. What kind of maniac of a father would teach his son to bullfight at only ten years old?

"Yes." Oh, it was so difficult for Antonio not to say "Sí" just then. "It was to continue the family tradition. Family is a very important aspect to us." Finally, the knot came undone and the pressure on Lovino's neck loosened considerably.

"But isn't that child endangerment? That should be illegal." Lovino wiggled his neck out of the almost noose-like rope and stared at the tomato loving Spaniard.

Antonio shrugged, crouching down to pick up Lovino. The cat protested at first, but loosened up. _Guess I owe him something since he just saved me. I'll let him have this._ He thought, crossing his arms and regaining his sour puss expression. "It wasn't illegal in Spain."

"Where are we going anyway? It better not be back to that Potato Bastard's house."

"If you want to come to mi casa, you can." Back to Spanish for Antonio. He just couldn't believe the cat in his hands was already sort of warming up to him, like he was his knight in shining armor. "There's plenty of room and no Ludwig's."

"But what about Feli?"

"He seems to be in good hands."

Just then, a clang, followed by other noises of things falling and being run into, could be heard from a window upstairs, as if a fight was going down. "Verdammt, Feliciano! Just get in the tub!" Ludwig.

"Veeee~! No water!" Feliciano.

"You're not licking yourself clean in my house! Get in the tub!"

"What's this I hear about licking yourself?" That intrusive voice could only belong to Gilbert.

"I don't want a half man that acts like a cat to be licking himself clean! He's going to take a bath if it's the last thing I do!"

"NO WATER!"

Both Antonio and Lovino stared at each other. Antonio gave him a look of nervousness while Lovino glared at him. "Yeah. Good hands huh?"

"Well, I'm sure he will be once Ludwig gets used to him."

"Whatever…" Lovino sighed, hiding his face in Antonio's shoulder. "Just take me home, bastard."

"You're so cute when you're cuddling."

"I'm not cuddling! I'm hiding!"

This argument continued to go back and forth through the walk home, each comeback, sneer, chuckle and insult reverberating through the street and into the whole neighborhood.

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OTL I'm sorry for taking so long guys. It saddens me. I was having trouble polishing up my third person writing skills, which seemed to have poofed overnight. Again, I'm very sorry for this and I'm even sorrier if this chapter is not up to par. I feel like this could have been written a lot better.

Sheisse, I'm brooding. I don't want to be an Edward! HELP ME! Anywho, I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. Reviews and constructive criticism are much appreciated. This is Wurstlover178, signing off.


	5. Rub-A-Dub-Dub, Get in the Tub!

My God guys, it's been forever! I am so sorry for not updating sooner, but I've had writer's block for quite the while now. I managed to get my act together though, so hooray! For pretty much the whole school year though, I didn't have my laptop due to bad grades and punishment. I have it back but unfortunately, I seriously don't know how long I'll have my laptop for, so if and when I poof unexpectedly, you guys know why. This fic is nowhere close to being done, trust me. Anywhore, ENJOY MY YAOI CRAVING VULTURES!

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As Antonio fled the scene to help Lovino outside, there was nothing Ludwig, Gilbert or Feliciano could do other than watch him leave. Maybe Feliciano could have helped out a little bit, but he was too busy falling back to sleep on Ludwig's once perfectly clean counter to care. Gilbert, on the other hand, shut the door as he passed by, _just_ to stare out the window and watch the fiasco outside.

While his surprisingly older brother gigged and went on about how "awesome" the fight would be, Ludwig sat back in his chair amongst them and rubbed his forehead. It was, after all, the only true way he could possibly get rid of his growing migraine. Pain killers stopped working years ago due to over use and he became immune to them. So now he has no choice but to give himself a massage pretty much every time someone got on his nerves.

Ludwig sighed, doing his best to keep himself from scolding his brother for not acting his age. Doing so would only make his migraine worse, a fate he definitely wanted to avoid. "Gilbert…" He said as calmly as possible. Gilbert instantly stopped his yammering and looked back at his little brother.

"Ja?"

"Shut up."

Gilbert blinked his crimson eyes once before smirking that goblin-like smirk of his, a tell-tale sign that he was planning something devious. "And why should I? This is fun!"

Ludwig was quite literally grinding his teeth together at this point, his patience quickly wearing thin. "I won't tell you again, Gilbert. Shut. Up."

Gilbert strode over to Ludwig and tossed an arm over his shoulder, grinning from ear to ear as he looked down on him for a change. "It doesn't matter, bruder. No matter what you can dish out to me," He leaned down and, with his lips just grazing Ludwig's ear, whispered, "You know I like it rough."

All Ludwig could do was roll his eyes in disgust and push Gilbert away. For some reason, Gilbert has always been hitting on him for some crackpot, incestuous reason. High school with him was the absolute worst being that everywhere Ludwig was, Gilbert was right there-raging hormones and all-to flirt and utter these sexual fantasies of his that he wanted no part in.

"You're disgusting sometimes," Ludwig mumbled. At least shoving Gilbert away vented some of his rising anger. His migraine was fading into a dull headache just with that violent action. "You know that right?"

"I learn from the best!" Gilbert exclaimed.

"You were born before me, dummkopf."

"You were the one watching porn at eleven years old."

Ludwig visibly winced at the memory. To this, he had no come back so, for once, Gilbert won. He flashed a cocky grin and waltzed back to the window to continue watching Antonio defending Lovino outside.

Ludwig sighed again and stood up. It was better to avoid Gilbert when he was this hyped up over an event. The results of being within a five foot radius of that man could very well blow out one of your ear drums if you weren't careful. "I'm going to bed." He said bluntly before marching out of the room.

Feliciano, meanwhile, was pretty much half asleep, dreaming of a big world of food where macaroni rained from the skies and people rode cannolis like horses. When his new master spoke up, however, his eyes wrenched open at the speed of light. As he watched Ludwig leave, he felt this animalistic urge to follow at his heels.

The Italian feline smiled and hopped down from the counter, still staring at Ludwig's fleeing figure while scampering out to see him. "Ve~ Master! Wait up!"

His master winced and glanced over his shoulder at him, tensing up even further at the sight of him. "I told you to stop calling me that."

Feliciano's ears pressed back onto his skull, saddened by his master's response. He was looking forward to having a good old pat on the head or a scratch behind the ear, not this. "Sorry…" He muttered halfheartedly.

Ludwig took another step forward and froze, doing a double take back at Feliciano. The cat's ears perked up at the action, basking in the glow of finally getting some attention. "What's wrong?"

What Ludwig saw was something out of his nightmares itself. Feliciano didn't really have any good clothes upon entering his house, so he lent him some of his old too small pieces of clothing (which were still a little too big on him, by the way). If Feliciano had been in his care for a few days, he wouldn't have been surprised. But this cat was only in his life for a few hours and his clothes were trashed! The pearly white, once perfectly ironed button down shirt was now grass stained, lopsided and torn at the shoulder with a few buttons in the wrong holes. The old sneakers were now ripped beyond repair, but the only thing still intact was his jeans. Then again, they were Feliciano's pair so why wouldn't they be?

Ludwig's eye twitched at the sight of it, gazing the filthy monster of his dreams in the face with the most powerful scowl he could muster. "What, in Gott's name, did you do to my clothes?" The question would have been perfectly innocent if he hadn't growled it through his teeth like that. The manner of speaking frightened Feliciano considerably, shrinking down as if to hide himself.

"Well… That nice man outside was playing Cat and Mouse with me. I was the mouse… So I dug a hole and hid inside it."

Ludwig felt ready to pop a vein. "Do you know how much damage you could have caused to the foundation of my home?!"

"Foun-day-shun?"

"Nevermind…" Ludwig grumbled with a shake of his head. "The point is you're filthy. You need a bath right now."

Feliciano's eyes widened, each and every muscle in his body ready to explode and send him running. "Bath?"

"Yes, a bath. Now get over here." Despite his disgust in doing so, Ludwig grabbed the back of Feliciano's shirt collar and picked him up, heading towards the stairs that would lead to Feliciano's "doom".

At first, the Italian was stiff as a board. He didn't want a bath! This was pretty much a form of beating down his beliefs! On instinct, he started bawling and sniffling, squirming in his attempt to escape his master's grip. "I don't want a bath! I can just lick myself clean and be on my merry way! Please! I'll be a good cat! I'll drown in the bath if I'm not careful! I still have the world to see, women to meet, kittens to have-WAIT! I'm still a virgin! I don't want to die a lonely virgin! PLEASE, I DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Ludwig grunted in frustration, slinging the cat over his shoulder. "Be quiet! Being a virgin has nothing to do with taking a bath or drowning! So shut up, take the bath and get this over with!"

Feliciano, in his blind fear, started kicking and punching Ludwig's back. "NO! I refuse! Just let me lick myself clean and-"

"You're not licking yourself in my house!" Now the image of Feliciano licking himself was stuck in Ludwig's mind against his will. _I need to get my brain pumped now…_ He thought.

"Let me go!" Somehow, Ludwig's grip had loosened just enough for Feliciano to fall and hit the ground. Though both he and the now fuming German were surprised, Feliciano wasn't really planning on looking a gift horse in the mouth. He scrambled to his feet and bolted into the living room, slipping several times on the slippery hardwood floor in his haste.

"Gott verdammt! Get back here, Feliciano!" Ludwig followed at his heels only to find the room empty. He couldn't have gotten far, so where was he?

The mug on the coffee table seemed to quiver and eventually a tail poked out from under it, revealing Feliciano covering his head with his hands and curled up into a ball on his knees. Ludwig sighed, making his way to the table and picking it up. Feliciano eventually stopped shaking and looked over his shoulder at the glaring German. He quickly became far more unnerved, the very glare reminding him of his last owner that got really angry when you napped on his "antique" piano. He hadn't known what that meant, but it must have meant a lot.

"Please, master. I don't want a bath…" Even his voice shook, tears welling up in his eyes. If this were any other cat that was a little less human, Ludwig may have felt bad. But being that he was stuck with this, he continued to glare.

"At this point, I don't care. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Take your pick."

Feliciano gaped at him for a good minute. For all he knew, "the hard way" could mean being force fed that mean British man's food! He certainly didn't want that; it was so bland and disgusting! But if he says he wants "the easy way", he'd be carried off to his watery doom! Maybe coming here wasn't such a good idea… But he seemed so nice in the alley way! Maybe he could say he would but run away at the last minute. He doubted it would work, but it was worth a shot.

Feliciano inhaled deeply and with a huff said, "Sí, signore…"

Ludwig blinked, confused. Was that really all it took? That never worked with Gilbert. The two seemed to annoy him just as much, that's for sure. Why Feliciano was being so compliant all of the sudden was beyond him.

"Good. Now come. I'm not planning on drawing this out longer than I have to." He turned around on his heels, expecting Feliciano to follow. The cat stood up slowly and did so, nervously glancing around with such a paranoid expression, he was concerned for his mental safety.

Then again, Gilbert could always spare his medications to help Feliciano. Pharmaceuticals meant for attention deficit albinos work for half-man cats too, right?

While Ludwig unconsciously stomped up the stairs, Feliciano padded quietly behind him to the point where it was barely audible. Multiple times, he had to glance back to see if the cat really was following only to lock eyes with his new bubbly companion. Either Ludwig weighed a lot more or he wasn't aware of his current temperament. The latter of the two possibilities seemed most likely.

Feliciano stared at the frames hanging in the hall, the pictures inside them varying in condition and color. One had Ludwig standing in front of an ice cream stand wearing an Oktoberfest cap and a floral shirt that was expected of all tourists, looking completely unamused as Gilbert had his arm around his shoulders and grinning. A prominent white line of sunscreen across the bridge of his nose could only mean they were in some sort of sunny area. Even in the short hours he knew Ludwig, the Italian expected the lack of expression he had.

_Does he ever smile?_ He thought. He stared warily at Ludwig's back, ignoring the other photos of fluffy yellow birds as ideas on how to make him smile danced around in his head.

_If these photos aren't proof that Gilbert owns a bird, I don't know what is._ Ludwig felt like his brother needed to wake up and smell the bird crap. He truly hated hanging these photos of that mysterious yellow bird Feliciano seemed fond of but _something_ had to be done about how unobservant that idiot was!

Feliciano was oddly quiet as Ludwig opened the door to the bathroom and walked in. He realized his tub of hair gel was out of place and still open after this morning's fire, swiftly moving to the vanity to fix the error.

"So that's why your hair's so shiny!" Feliciano exclaimed.

Ludwig deadpanned. Did he really just say that? "And?"

"I was… just wondering why it looked so stiff and sparkly is all…"

_Innocent enough, I guess. _At this point, he was hunched over the bathtub and running the water. If he managed to burn Feliciano with scalding water, he just might get arrested for animal abuse. He wasn't really sure if the Italian could count as an "animal" exactly, considering he looked more like any other annoying man except with cat ears and a tail.

Ludwig made a mental note to look up the bylaws for animal abuse to half-animal creatures later.

From the doorway, Feliciano froze like a deer in headlights. The very sound of rushing water made his knees wobble and his hands clammy. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he had his tail between like a dog right now. The entire ordeal proved to be too overwhelming. As quietly as he could, he tiptoed behind Ludwig, who was kneeling on the floor and staring into space, he tried to reach the window.

Sadly, he bumped into a rack holding dry, folded towels. The towels themselves didn't make too much noise, but the metal rack fell with a clang next to the toilet. Both man and half-man jumped, staring at each other for a split second. Feliciano's instinct told him to run and he did.

Ludwig stumbled to his feet and grabbed Feliciano's tail before he could run out the door, hearing a high pitched squeak of pain afterwards. "This is going to hurt you more than it's going to hurt me, Feliciano!" He pulled back harshly at his tail, hoping to tug the cat into the tub by force even if he was still clothed. It was the only choice he had now.

Feliciano yelped, falling to the floor and hitting his chin in the hallway. "No! I don't want a bath!" He somehow managed to free his tail from Ludwig's grip and jumped on top of the toilet, toppling over some medicated creams and a few other tubs of gel. "You can't make me!"

Ludwig pounced, reaching for the Italian curled up on top of the toilet only to see him jump away. Nearly colliding head first into the window, his anger was starting to bubble over. Feliciano was crouched in front of the cabinets under the sink and tearing out the toiletries inside. Again, he jumped and missed. "Verdammt, Feliciano! Get in the tub!" He boomed. The vein in his forehead started to pop out, eyes narrowed and locked on the cat avoiding him like he was covered in oil.

"Veeee~! No water!" He tried to make another hasty escape as Ludwig laid on the floor stunned and furious, but the German clung onto his ankle and pulled him down so that they were at eye level.

"You're not licking yourself in my house! Get in the tub!"

Gilbert had already been on his way upstairs to take a leak after all those beers he drank watching the show outside. He was quite surprised to have seen his Spanish friend beat the snot out of the dog next door. Surprises like that deserved to be drowned in beer! At the moment Ludwig last yelled at Feliciano, he was stopping in front of the door way to see this debacle. "What's this I hear about licking yourself?" He knew his bro was talking to the cute new cat he brought home but he was starting to get these weird images of Ludwig licking himself. Who wouldn't investigate if they heard something as intriguing as that?

Ludwig looked at Gilbert in surprise, seeing the perverse stare he was giving him. Despite how he worded it wrong and was scolding himself for it, he responded, "I don't want a half man that acts like a cat to be licking himself clean! He's going to take a bath if it's the last thing I do!" And he intended to see that threat to the end. He stood up, raising Feliciano's ankle as he did and trying to pick him up.

"NO WATER!" On instinct, he kicked and lashed out at his newly acquired master. The blow struck home. A perfect bull's eye to the crotch. Ludwig seemed to crumple in on himself just then. It seems he had found his one weakness. The blond fell back, his hold on Feliciano's ankle slipping in order to cradle himself.

"DAMN! THAT GOTTA HURT!" Gilbert started cackling at the complete epicness of the moment. "Where's my camera when I need it?"

Shooting one last misty eyed glare at his brother, Ludwig choked out, "D-dumm…kopf…" before his head hit the tile floor with a light _thud_.

Feliciano didn't want to take chances on being within even a mile's radius of Ludwig when he got his bearings, pushing past Gilbert and running to the room next door. A sense of finality hit him as he yanked open the window and jumped out as quickly as he could. One thought haunted him when he landed perfectly on his feet outside. It wasn't _Why-is-the-fence-knocked-down_ or _Where-could- Lovino-be_. Rather he scanned the area and felt he was about to cry.

_Now where is that hole I dug?_

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DA-DUM! *quack quack* (If you got that reference, you are so _FUDGING_ Prussian awesome, I want to shower you with hugs, thank you for being so awesome and call you George. :D) And there's the chappie everyone! I feel like this isn't my best work, but I had to put something out there! Besides, you guys must have been wondering FOR MONTHS how the Hell Feli got into that mess to begin with. So there it is! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated! I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors! From my computer to yours, this is Wurstlover178, signing off! ¡HASTA LUEGO, MI GENTES!


	6. Night of the Intrusive Turtle

DA-DUM! *quack quack*

Hell, I'm gonna keep doing that 'til someone gets the reference. XD That shit's like… A major chunk of my childhood.

ANYWHORE! I am back for more! So get ready, my yaoi craving vultures! I gots more Cat's Cradle comin' your way! Hetalia doesn't belong to me! Review or Russia-san will beat me with his pipe! (Forgot to put that in my last chappie.)

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"This place is a dump…" Lovino grumbled. Currently, he was standing on the porch of the Spanish bastard's crappy looking house, arms crossed and looking at how disheveled the place was. It was sort of like Antonio's hair the way it was all over the place, actually. He had nearly tripped on the way up the stairs to the porch because a board was coming loose then got a splinter stuck in his foot. He was still leaning on his other foot to avoid the pain shooting up his leg. He turned his head to look at the shingles of the roof that looked like they were in dire need of replacement and the tacky blinds on the windows. Seriously, those blinds were like a flashback into the 80s. He did, however, give him bonus points for using the _Venetian_ variety. Then again, that was just his Italian pride seeping through.

Antonio looked at him, stopping in his search for his keys to do so. "It may be a dump, amigo. But it's home!"

Lovino's eye twitched at the cheeriness of his response. _That was supposed to be an insult, damn it!_

Antonio got down on his knees to look under the doormat that said in proud red lettering "¡Mi casa es su casa!" Even his stupid doormat sounded happy, for crying out loud! Was there anything this man possessed that wasn't perpetually happy?

"Found it!" The Spaniard announced, holding a dull bronze key between his fingers. The fact that it took nearly ten minutes of standing outside in the dark pissed Lovino off to no end. He was starting to shiver and he hated showing his weakness to the cold. Either he was used to warm weather or he just needed to put a shirt on.

He refused to admit the latter.

Antonio, meanwhile, opened the door proudly, his hand almost sweeping it out of the way. Inside the living room was a tatter brown leather couch, pinkish looking carpeting and… a fish tank?

"It's not much, but like I said, it's home."

Lovino rolled his eyes and shoved past him, his limping coming to a stop as the plush carpeting protected his foot with a cloud-like pillowy softness. He refused to show his relief as he looked around again. Same crappy couch, same crappy carpeting, not surprisingly a crappy television sitting across from the couch. That fish tank sitting in the corner though was starting to get on his nerves. It seemed harmless at first glance but he couldn't shake the feeling that if he looked at it the wrong way, he'd be attacked by piranhas within minutes.

"What the fuck do you have a fish tank for?"

Antonio was in the middle of locking the door and putting the key amongst the many in his pocket before he grinned and rushed over to Lovino's side. "That's no fish tank! Mis tortugas are in there!"

Tortuga… Tartaruga…

"Turtles?" His shoulders slumped at the realization that this bastard kept turtles of all things. He had had a bad experience with a turtle as a little kitten; the turtle latched onto his tail and didn't let go for hours. Then, as if nothing even happened, it climbed on his head and sat there like it was his best friend. _Sat there!_ The nerve of some animals…

"¡Sí!"

_Great. Just fucking great._ He thought, lip curling in anger.

Antonio went over to the tank of turtles and took one out. "This one's Juanita! She's the prettiest little tortuga in the world!"

The Italian sat Indian style on the floor with a huff, glaring at the splinter in his foot. "Who cares?" He started picking at it in an effort to remove it only to wince in pain every time.

Antonio ignored him and put "Juanita" on top of his head-much to Lovino's disgust-and took out another. "This one's Pablo! They're padres of my littlest turtles, Fernando, Roberto, Alejandro and Bertha."

Lovino stopped to raise an eyebrow at him. "Bertha?" The recurring theme to his names was that they were all Spanish, but Bertha broke through the mold.

Antonio shrugged, putting Pablo on his shoulder. "Sí… Gilbert named her. He needs to stop with la cerveza, no?"

"You mean the little potato bastard?"

"No. The older one."

"Yeah. The little one."

Gilbert's most recognizable traits couldn't contradict themselves even worse than they already did; he was the older brother, yet the shorter one as well. The misconception got Lovino irritated to the point where he said, "Shut up" and looked to the kitchen to his right.

From what he could see, the kitchen looked slightly better except that it was utterly cramped with a tomato red paint covering the doors of the cabinets. He just prayed to God that there was no floral wallpaper in the house. If there was, he was out of here.

"Tienes hambre?"

Lovino snapped out of his daze of pure criticism to look at the tomato bastard again. "What?"

"Tienes hambre?"

"Try it in English." No matter how much he tried to think of possible conversational Italian and how it compares to Spanish, he couldn't figure out what it meant. He was willing to bet that the answer was right in his face though.

"Are you hungry?"

And thus, how he could have one a million dollars that it was right in his face. His tail bristled, aggravated with his own stupidity. "I guess…"

The Spaniard looked up at the ceiling fan whirring above his head for a minute, then nodded and smiled a little more. "Un momento. I'll be right back." He rushed in front of Lovino towards the kitchen but stopped and retraced his steps. "Could you watch Pablo and Juanita while I'm gone?"

Lovino glared up at him, an unconscious pout appearing on his face. "What am I? A turtle's keeper?" Honestly, he just got here and he was being asked to baby sit? Why did he be subjected to this kind of abuse?

"I just don't want them getting hurt." Antonio took Juanita off his head and stared into her beady black eyes, stroking the top of her scaly head with an affectionately gentle touch. "Un accidente to the shell could be dangerous."

_Good. Now I know how to get rid of them._ Lovino kept his peevish thoughts to himself for the time being and shrugged. "This better be one hell of a meal."

Antonio beamed and put the turtles down in front of him, their brown shells and green appendages standing out against the hideously pink carpet. "Gracias." And he was off again, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Whatever…" He mumbled under his breath. At first, he refused to look at the treacherous beasts in front of him. But soon, his eyes snuck a peek at the two turtles, who just sat there and stared up at him expectantly. If he didn't know any better, he would have said they were actually plotting against him in their own silent turtle language.

"What are you bastards looking at?" He snapped. One turtle-he guessed Pablo, since he was bigger-stared for another minute before crawling towards him, perching himself on his splintered foot. Juanita followed suit, only she climbed higher and ended up on his shoulder. Lovino started to tremble under their cold, wet feet, stiffening and trying to control the frightened squeal coming up his throat.

"Get off of me!" The turtle's ignored him and crawled all over his body. "Stop it, damn it!"

In the kitchen, Antonio's ears perked up after hearing Lovino's yelling. "That gato really is loud, hm?" After a minute of hearing no other noises, he shrugged it off and continued to dig through his refrigerator. He knew that somewhere hidden in here there was a tupperware filled with rice from the other night. He figured the arroz cubano was still fresh enough to eat since it was only from two, maybe three nights ago. All he had to do was reheat it, put some fresh sauce and add and egg. It was all so simple!

He started to sway his hips to a song he started to hum, oblivious to the commotion in the living room. "Bien, tu amor mi hace bien… Tu amor me desarma…"

"Get the hell off me!" Lovino screeched. It was like his desperate cries for help were directed towards a dead man! The turtle's didn't budge; just climbed further up his body to the point where they were on his chest and head respectively. "I'll feed you to the buzzards!" In his haste to escape, he jumped up and ran in random circles. The result was the head rush he accomplished to give himself, falling back and hitting the turtle tank head first.

"FUCK!" He screamed, holding his head and protecting his ears from getting gashed. As if straight from his personal Hell, more turtles fell on top of him and started to crawl in their efforts to find a home devoid of glass. "I HATE MY LIFE!"

Antonio finally poked his head into the living room, eyes widening at the sight of one of his turtles spazzing out on the floor, feet flailing in the air wildly. "Bertha! What happened to you?!"

Lovino's head snapped in his direction, his mouth agape in disbelief. "Are you fucking kidding me?! You're worried about a fucking turtle while I'm sitting here in a pile of glass, getting attacked by turtles and have a splinter in my foot?!"

Antonio was already on his knees picking up Bertha the Turtle, restoring her to her upright position. "If anything you endangered them!"

"They started it!"

"Well you sure finished it, didn't you?"

The cat was a little taken back at the snippiness in Antonio's voice. Was this really the secret to getting rid of his ridiculous happiness? He would have never guessed. "I was in danger and you flat out ignored me!"

"Well then why didn't you call for me?"

"I did, you dick!"

Antonio rolled his eyes. It was very rare that he ever got this angry, but he was trying to hold it in. After all, Lovino was a guest here and he didn't know any better. Pets just need training, right? He kept this in mind as he started to retrieve his turtles, putting them all on different perches on his body from shoulders to the crook of his arm. "Now I need to clean this up before someone gets hurt…"

"Like me?" Lovino hissed, arms crossed. His ears were laid flat on his head and his tail puffed out angrily. If it weren't for that pout he had, Antonio would have felt threatened by the vicious body language.

"¿Ayudame, por favor?" He asked, choosing to ignore the snippy remark. "The vacuum is in the kitchen."

"Help yourself, bastard! I'm still hungry." But Lovino got up and headed to the kitchen anyway, so as to look like he was in search of food. Antonio didn't seem to pay any mind though, too worried about the welfare of his stupid turtles to care about how he responded. Narrowing his eyes back at him, the cat entered the kitchen, the cold tile sending a shiver up his spine as well as bringing back his limp. He would have asked for help in removing the damn splinter, but now he had second thoughts.

Looking around, his eyes stopped on a decorative bowl on the counter. Was that meant for him or for Antonio? He looked left, then right, then back at the flustered Spaniard in the living room who was currently putting his precious pets on the couch. The sneaking feeling of jealousy crept up for a few minutes there, but Lovino kept it at bay and took the bowl anyway. There was rice in it covered with tomato sauce, an egg frying slowly on the frying pan currently being ignored by Antonio.

"You and me both, buddy." He said to the pan, taking a bite of the rice with a spoon he found on the counter. It wasn't that bad, so he sat on the floor and continued to eat.

Antonio, on the other hand, thought it was that bad. "¡Dios mio! I need a whole new tank!" His hands were trembling the whole time, trying to prevent getting any more cuts on his palm. He failed with flying colors. A drop of red fell on the carpet, green eyes feeling all sorts of grief in that moment. "Lovi! Where are you?"

"Kitchen" came the muffled reply.

"Doing what?"

Lovino sauntered into the room, the bowl in his hands and a spoon sticking out of his mouth. "Eating." He said through it, pushing the turtles over with his free hand and sitting on the couch. "Why?"

"I told you to get the vacuum!"

"And?"

Antonio felt the fragile line that was his temper starting to erase, doing his best to breathe in and out like his therapist from a few years ago told him to. "Okay, okay. I see how it is. I'll have to get it myself." He stood up and stared at Lovino for a while, still unable to believe that the cat was still protecting himself and his own honor rather than follow what he said. He _was_ technically his new owner. So that means he has no choice but to listen, right?

"But when I get back," he stuck a finger in Lovino's face, his chewing coming to an abrupt halt when he did. "You better have apologized to mis tortugas or I'll bring you back to Ludwig's house!" Lovino's jaw hung slack, the spoon as well as a few bits of chewed rice falling out.

"You're kidding right?! No way I'll going to buddy up with these vicious mini Godzillas!"

"Do you want to join your brother with Ludwig?"

Lovino was at a crossroads. It was kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. In his case, though, it was _Tomato_ Bastard or _Potato_ Bastard. He really did want to make sure Feliciano was safe and not getting raped by any strange cats that roam around town or being force fed English food. But at the same time, he wanted no part in the Potato Bastard's life. Tomato Bastard was being kind enough; he was just obsessing over turtles and that got him angry.

His eye twitched, feeling his blood boil in his veins. But he kept silent and glared at the one turtle staring up at him with those beady eyes of his or hers. "Fine…" He mumbled after swallowing.

Antonio smiled and left to get the vacuum cleaner. _That was easier than I thought! _He started to whistle a happy tune as he strode into the kitchen and grabbed the red vacuum from the corner. If he didn't know any better, he'd say that Lovino actually _hated_ Ludwig! "That's ridiculous… He's one of the coolest guys I know!" Sure, they were soccer rivals and he always knew how to handle his alcohol better, but he was a good guy with good intentions nonetheless.

He was even more pleased to see Lovino actually poke one of the turtles without a look of malice as he swept up the mess on the carpet. The Italian flinched a few times here and there, but he was learning. Slowly yet surely, he was learning.

"There!" Antonio announced proudly. By this time, the turtles were all over Lovino while he finished eating his rice with a sour expression. "All clean!"

"So what will you do with the turtles?"

Antonio shrugged. "I'll have to put them in the sink and see how that works."

Lovino barely nodded as he set the empty bowl down on his lap. "Why do you have turtles to begin with?"

The Spaniard's eyes widened at the very question. Asking him that was like asking the meaning of life! You just don't do it! It was all a matter of life and death now, yet Lovino had no idea what flood gates of affection he just opened. "I love tortugas! I've had them since I lived in España!" He picked up Pablo, who was tugging at nearly every strand of Lovino's hair but the curl and stroked his head with a gentle finger. "I even hatched them at the beach one day when there madre was killed by poachers!"

Lovino raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms on instinct. While his ears were perked with slight interest now, his tail as well as the hairs on the back of his still bristled with anger and jealousy at the man's obvious love for turtles. "Didn't your parents ever tell you that you can't name things you throw back?"

"Oh, not at all! They didn't say a word against it! In fact, they supported me and said I'd be a great padre someday!" He put Pablo back on Lovino's head. "I suppose they expected me to have a lot of niños, what with me being so passionate and all!"

To Lovino, it sounded like he was bragging about his sex life. "So, you've had a few girlfriends. Big whoop. It's not like they meant anything."

"What do you mean?"

Lovino tried to peel the reptiles off of him to no avail. "I can flirt too, you know? Italians are revered as the original Romantics!"

"So I hear. Then why don't you have kittens?"

"Because no girl ever accepts my advances… They're all bastards anyway. I just flirt because they're pretty and I'm expected to."

Well that was certainly interesting. Antonio nodded and sat down on the floor in front of Lovino. "So no matter what you do, you can't find love?"

Lovino wasn't exactly looking for love at the moment; more like an escape from this turtle infested sinkhole. But he looked up at the spackled ceiling and nodded. "Yep… Not like I care."

Antonio pursed his lips. How could he just shrug off something this serious?! This was almost as blasphemous as throwing all the tomatoes of La Tomatina into the ocean! His resolve set in stone, he put his hands on Lovino's exposed feet, closed his eyes and smiled, tilting his head automatically to the left for an extra cute factor. If he was to get the trust of Lovino and say he had the ability to help him out of this romantic rut, he had to do something to prove it!

"I'll help you!"

Lovino froze, staring down at Antonio with wide eyes. He was caught off guard when the man touched his feet, but that smile was a bit too much. His heart started to race with the awkward extremity of it all, looking frantically for answers. In the end, he pushed Antonio's face away until he was on his back, staring up confused at the cat before him.

Lovino was blushing bright red from the tip of his ears to his cheek bones, resembling a tomato in every sense of the word. At least, that's what Antonio saw. The cat scratched the back of his head and looked away. "I don't really need it… But if you insist."

Antonio grinned. "¡Muy bueno! We start tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?! Are you insane?! I just got here!"

The Spaniard messed up his hair even further when he ran a hand through it. "You're right… Hm." He looked into the dark hallway in the distance, smiling wide. "Then let's get to bed now and get a good night's sleep!"

"And where exactly am I sleeping?"

"Eh…" Now Antonio was at a loss. Should he sleep with him or would that be strange? Probably the latter of the two. He was almost certain the cat wanted no part in sleeping on the floor or the couch now that both were overrun by turtles. "You sleep in my bed tonight. I'll stay with the turtles and sleep on the couch."

Lovino let out a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to worry about running over turtles with his body in the middle of the night. Plus, at least he was sleeping in a bed instead of the ratty looking couch. For all he knew, there were bed bugs crawling around in it. "Fair enough."

"Great! Now go! We have a lot to do tomorrow!" Antonio pulled Lovino off the couch and shooed him down the hall. "My room is the last one on the right. If you need extra blankets, check under the bed. ¡Buenos noches!"

Something told Lovino that this was probably a bad idea. As he walked into the cramped room in question, he had no doubt in his mind that there had to be some sort of trouble brewing in his near future.

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There ya go guys! The ending felt sort of rushed, but… *shrugs* Oh well. Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated! I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors! From my computer to yours, this is Wurstlover178, signing off! ¡HASTA LUEGO, MI GENTES!

**Please support Autism Spectrum Disorder research. Thank you. (You don't have to suddenly spend your college savings on a research foundation for Autism, but it's National Autism Awareness Month. I just want to spread the word that this disorder exists and let you guys know that April is Autism Awareness Month. If you're curious, look it up on your own accord. I don't want to be banned from the site for this. Like I said, I'm just a messenger. I know several people with Autism and I'm sure many people elsewhere on FanFiction do too. For the whole month, I will put this exact blurb on all my updates. THANK YOU AND PLEASE DON'T REPORT ME!)**


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